Urban Resistance
by RPG101
Summary: When a massive army of orks assualts a planet the Imperium sends its men to destroy the threat. This is not as easy as they planned. Even with the Imperial Guard, Space Marines, and local militia the planet's fate will be decided by Urban Resistance.
1. The First Skirmish

A/N I apologize for this chapter being short, they will get longer. Also this is my first fanfic so I apologize for mistakes I made.

Disclaimer-I don't own Warhammer, I just enjoy their stories and battles.

Commissar Roland Joine examined his men. They had dug a line of trenches far away from the ork line. Behind his battalion was a line of artillery, which thundered with giant roars as their shells exploded into the orks opposite them. Artillery commander Valer approached him. "Sir, our artillery is firing into the field far more than into the ork's encampment.

Commissar Roland nodded, "I'm aware of that Valer. Its keeping the orks at bay is it not?"

Valer was confused for a moment, "Yes sir, but we're wasting our ammunition. If we run out we're dead."

Roland grinned, it was a frightening experience. He was large bulky man with a scarred face. He crossed his large arms and examined the field before speaking, "The ork's are foolish. They will believe they can withstand the barrage." He said his words slowly, as if Varis could not understand his idea.

Varis thought for a moment and nodded, "I see your logic sir, but how are you so sure?"

Roland chuckled and pointed towards the ork's line, "Because, they are doing it right now." Varis turned his head and saw it, a large ork was waving his axe and screaming in a thick tongue. His words were followed by a cheer and shots from the ork's primitive guns. With more roaring, the ork's charged.

Roland drew his chainsword, "Varis get back to your post and double the barrage!" Varis saluted and ran to the artillery emplacements. Roland switched on his chainsword and yelled, "Ready your guns guardsmen, it is here where we fight! Hold your weapons steady and know that I fight with you! For the Emperor!" His soldiers nodded, cheered, and prepped their lasguns to maximum power.

The orks charged directly across the field, it was a foolish mistake, even for their kind. The artillery shells ripped apart their waves, and they never pulled back, seeking to charge into the guard's line no matter the cost.

Roland grinned as the survivors of the barrage and the guardsmen's lasgun assault jumped into the assault. He jumped down from the mound he was standing on and swung his chainsword. The moving blade cut through the first ork it met, spending a wave of blood onto the surrounding men. He dodged an ork's axe and dug his chainsword into the chest, breaking through the bones.

A shot from an ork's badly aimed gun singed Roland's cape. Roland growled and pulled out his pistol. He fired several shots at the ork and dispatched it with a gut wrenching swipe from his sword. The ork's pushed his men deeper, he had not expected this many to get across alive. He cursed and fired his gun several more times, burning ork's flesh and sending blood spattering with the giant chainsword. An ork fired his rusted pistol and clipped Roland's shoulder. The commissar grinned like a wolf and emptied the rest of his gun on the ork.

He threw his gun at the nearest ork and gripped his chainsword with both hands. He lifted the weapon above his head and swung it down cutting deep into the ork's shoulder slicing through sinew and bone. The ork screamed and stumbled backwards, dispatched by lasfire from the guardsmen. Roland bent low and swiped towards another, merely leaving a deadly cut on the beast's back as it lunged forward.

The commissar examined the battle, despite what he had originally thought the battle was in their favor. Most of the ork's had decided not to cross the field, even if they could take the guard's position. The orks that did traverse the zone of death were choosing it over the fearless commissar. The beasts across the field were falling back, most likely to prepare for a new assault at a different location. Roland tapped his ear and began reporting it and received his new orders. His regiment was to fall back to the city...


	2. Karis Poragis

Commissar Roland turned in his cot uncomfortably several times. For what seemed like hours he lay there listening to the bustle outside of the barracks on Karis Paragis, the planet Eion's capital city.

Finally the Commissar managed to pull himself off of the bed and rub his eyes. His regiment had fallen back to the city, a move he disagreed with. The local government believed that the more troops they had stationed inside the city, the better. Roland disagreed, why should his men be hunkered in trenches here when they could be hunkered in trenches out there? At least out there they had a chance of taking orks with them.

Roland grimly washed his face at the sink, one of the few accommodations his room was provided with. He sat back down on the cot and pulled on his boots, groaning when they didn't come on easily. '_I need new boots_' he thought, pulling on a jacket before leaving his quarters.

Some of his men were already awake when he entered the barrack's main room. They sat at around a small wooden table, playing a game of cards and drinking hot caffeine. Roland nodded a greeting to them and they saluted lazily, no point in being formal in the morning.

Roland poured himself a cup of the caffeine and looked out the window. The morning had not even begun and people were already waking for their business. He had to admit it surprised him, he had originally believed only military personnel woke at such an hour.

Roland stood still for well over an hour. When he did move it was to address his men that were still sleeping. 'Its time to wake' he would say. 'Keep yourself ready at all times' was his motto. Commissar Roland believed the earlier you woke up the more prepared you were for anything. He despised those men, especially the officers, who woke up at eleven in the afternoon.

Captain Josh awoke at precisely eleven in the afternoon. He stared at the low ceiling in his room for several minutes before getting out of his bed. He stretched and popped several joints as soon as he stood up. After combing back his strangled mess of hair in front of the mirror the captain pulled on a shirt and walked out of his room, still barefooted.

The barrack's main room was filled. People chatted, joked, swore, and laughed. Two guards at the far corner sparred with training poles, trying to zap each other with the electric ends. This was Josh's territory, he knew each of his men as a friend, and that was all he cared about. He would rather save all his men then have one die and complete and follow orders.

The captain strode around, greeting the soldiers even if he had never met them before today. He pushed past several people and found what he was searching for, the dining area. He strode towards the ice cabinet and removed a can of liquor. He popped it open and took a drink examining the barracks. He found no true problems, so he finished his can, crunched it up, and tossed it in the waste basket. He then proceeded back to his room for his shoes; he was going to explore the city.

* * *

Karis Paragis was a massive city. Every inch of its area had a building placed on it. Large libraries, restraunts, hotels, shopping areas, littered the area. However Josh stopped at none of these. His destination was in a more secluded area, a sign above it claimed it was called the _Empty Bottle_.

The inside of the building was as foul as the outside. A smoky aroma filled the room, along with smoke itself. A large bartended with a missing eye glared at the patrons ordering a drink, several men sat at table with dice, and several shady looking people eyed the newcomer with skilled thieves' eyes. Several Imperial Guard soldiers turned their heads when they saw Josh, this area was off limits to them, but Josh merely nodded his head and walked towards the men at the tables. He let a decent amount of the local currency drop and said softly, "Three round please."

* * *

Force Commander Matthew fired his plasma pistol at the charging orks. The pistol's shot caught one of the greenskins in the chest, sending him back several feet. Matthew fired several more shots from his pistol and then pulled out his power sword. He swung his weapon and caught a jumping ork in the chest, slicing deep into his rib cage. Matthew swung more and gave several nasty cuts to vicious looking orks. The force commander continued firing his pistol sending his opponents running for cover.

Matthew hacked into an ork's body, ignoring the blood that splattered onto his face. He ripped out the power sword and emptied the rest of the plasma pistol's clip on more orks. Swearing he sheathed his blade and walked back slowly loading his pistol. He gripped the pistol with two hands and fired repeatedly at the beasts in front of him. The bolts caught two orks in the head and three more in the side.

The Force Commander grinned as his Space Marines opened fire on the orks, sending bodies flying. Matthew let out a roar and drew back out his power sword. His blade cut down two orks immediately before they connected to the Space Marine's line. There was chaos of flashing guns and hacking axes. Matthew didn't need to look to see that the ork's were pushing back his men. The Space Marine's may have been elite soldiers, but the orks had the advantage of number.

The Commander dug his blade into an ork's chest and ripped the axe from the ork's hands. He hefted the axe and threw it with all his might. The weapon sliced into an ork's head sending blood exploding from the skull. Matthew glanced back and swore, the Space Marines were being murdered. There were just too many orks. Matthew dodged an axe and fired his pistol point blank at an ork's head. He holstered the pistol and gripped his power sword with two hands. The blade beheaded an ork and sent two limping away in fear. Matthew tapped the Vox Link on the side of his head, linking himself to command. "This is Force Commander Matthew of the Blood Spear Space Marine Company," he sliced open an orks stomach and had an axe slam into his shoulder plate in return. "Requesting permission to fall back to city, immediately. There are too many orks!"

The Vox Link crackled as the answer came in, "Permission granted Commander. Fall back immediately."

Matthew grinned, "Thank you commander." He waved his sword, "Fall back! Fall back to the city, there are too many!" The Space Marines yelled their acceptances and began retreating slowly, firing their guns while moving.

* * *

Commissar Roland received his orders less than an hour after the Space Marines fell back. He was sitting in the barracks showing his soldiers the right way to fire a lasgun. The order came from the general of the defense of the city himself. "The Space Marines have fallen back. As we know an entire ork army is on its way to assault the city. They could be here in a week or an hour. Prepare your men, the assault may come soon."

Commissar Roland nodded, "Orders received General. We will show them why we are to be feared…"


	3. Withstanding the Tide

**A/N **For those that read this I apologize for not updating for awhile, so to make up for it I typed this all in one night. So I apologize for any typos.

Trooper James held his hand's to his ears and cowered, rolled into a ball. The artillery guns on the roofs fired without rhythm. It was a horrifying experience to be up there, hearing the pounding so near to you, and nothing to do but cower as the experts performed…excellently. The Imperial Guard had placed the artillery guns on top of large tough buildings to bombard the orks. Unfortunately, the orks had turned tail and ran once they're numbers were cut down. The horrible thing was unless the bombardment continued the orks would send in another wave, loaded with their 'Rokkits' and try to blow the wall around the city.

James didn't hear the sound of Jetpacks above him, or the ork's bloodthirsty war-cry. He only saw a heavy foot land slam in front of him. He looked up and saw an ork with a jetpack strapped to his back raise his axe. James covered his head as the axe swung down…

* * *

There was a roar as several red, rusty ships landed. The door to each one slammed open and hordes of axe wielding orks climbed out. They fired their pistols and slung their weapons, chanting in their thick voices.

The Warboss examined his army from his small hill. The Warboss was a giant figure, most body parts replaced with stolen technology and armor, his left arm was an auto cannon, and his right was a claw with a flamethrower inserted in the middle. He let out a loud hoarse laugh as he watched more and more orks assemble. "Dese be MY boyz! And none of dem humies will be takin da pain from my boyz!!!" He yelled his statement out, and hundreds of the orks cheered, raising their crude axes as a salute.

One of the Warboss's 'advisors' walked up to him. "Our boyz not strong enough to take dat city at once! I been thinkin we do what dem humies do and siege it!"

The Warboss roared and swung his claw, a jet of fire erupting from it. "Dat no fun, send da Mara! He soften dem humies up enough for my boyz!"

* * *

Force Commander Matthew fired his plasma pistol from the trench. The Space Marines had dug in, hoping to withstand numerous ork waves. The way they were sending them, Brother Matthew and two full reinforced squads were able to hold off the waves they send. At least, they were until they spotted the Maranae.

The Maranae was a large ork with a flamethrower hooked to his side and several tanks of its special 'ammunition' on his back. He carried a large plasma gun and fired at anyone who came to close. He wasn't just dangerous in combat either. The Maranae seemed to inspire the orks around him with a bloodlust with no end to it. They fought more than any other orks anyone had ever fought…

A vibration on his comlink interrupted the Force Commander. He tapped the side and heard a voice, "We won't be able to defend the city if that beast gets inside. Take it down!"

Force Commander Matthew swore and holstered his plasma pistol. "Give me covering fire! Take out any of those orks getting close!" He drew his power sword and hefted himself out of the trench, and charged into the battle.

The first two orks were cut aside, and three more that tried to approach him were blasted apart from the squads in the trenches. Matthew charged at the Maranae, dodging several blast from the ork's plasma gun. The ork roared and turned on his flamethrower, igniting the air two feet from Matthew into a wave of fire.

The Force Commander dropped and rolled, wincing as some of the fire singed through his shoulder plate. He threw himself off the ground and slashed at the Maranae, cutting off a piece of metal.

The ork swore and reopened its flamethrower randomly, completely missing Matthew. Matthew grinned and pressed the attack, cutting deeper into the ork's body. He grinned at the lash of blood; at least, he did until the ork fired the plasma gun at pointblank range. Matthew flew back, and a bubbling drew his eyes to his stomach. The blast nearly melted the armor around his stomach, '_Better than my head' _he thought to himself.

Matthew wasted no time, ignoring the pain in his stomach he flew back up swinging the power sword with all of his might. This time, the blade caught the ork between the shoulder and neck, digging into the ork's large figure and cutting through flesh and sinew.

The ork screamed and flailed his arms around. Matthew dug out his sword, dodged a wave from a massive arm, and shoved the power sword through the Maranae's chest. Matthew grinned and admired his work for a second, but stopped once he heard a small whistling. The gas tanks on the ork's back had been cut, and Matthew guessed the power sword and gas wouldn't mix. The Force Commander turned and ran.

The blast was magnificent. The ork's body erupted into a column of blazing white fire, reaching into the sky and burning the orks that had been stupid enough to approach their leader. In short, anything with a five yard radius was caught in the blaze, and nothing, save for traces of the equipment, was left.

The Commander grinned and turned around pulling out his plasma pistol and tapped his com-link. "The ork is down, requesting permission to fall back."

There was a silence for several seconds before the reply. "Negative Brother Matthew! You have a large wave of orks coming straight at you. You need to neutralize them, we'll send reinforcements as soon as we can."

Matthew swore and turned off the com-link and began firing his plasma pistol at the nearest targets. He saw the wave coming over a hill, hundreds of orks roaring and shaking their axes. He wiped his forehead and continued firing, reloading as soon as he could. Once the wave of orks was close enough however, he began retreating. Then, he heard a rumble of footsteps. He turned around and saw his two squads of Space Marines opening fire on the ork's wave. He swore and yelled, "What are you doing? Get back in the trench."

A sergeant grinned and fired his gun at a charging ork. "Sorry Commander. Your stuck with us!"

Matthew turned his face, trying to hide the grin of pride. He fired his pistol several times, completely missing his targets. He swore and reloaded, forcing himself to aim carefully, letting out a smirk of satisfaction as the blast hit his targets this time. He looked down and groaned, three clips were left. He brought back his arm as an ork neared, and brought crashing down, knocking the beast unconscious. He held up his gun and emptied the remainder of his clip onto an ork.

He glanced around, the Space Marines were in melee combat now, and his squads didn't excel at that. He fired twice, point blank, and burst two ork's skulls. No one noticed the rain of blood that fell. _'There are just to many,;_ he thought. He glanced around, and saw an axe flying towards him. He tried to jump back, but felt the axe dig into his shoulder sending him to the ground. There was a loud chorus of thuds, but death didn't come.

Matthew looked up to see a squad of Terminators engaging the orks in a bloody melee combat. One of the men heaved him to his feet, and after a quick check to make sure he was ok; the Terminator was back in combat.

Matthew glanced around; he didn't want to fire his pistol any more now. He was lucky though, a working, if rusted, chainsword lay clenched in an ork's hand. Matthew pried it out of the greenskin's hand and flicked it on, grinned at its sweet roaring. He swung the chainsword in an expert stroke and easily sliced through an ork. "All right , now I'm ready."

The Commander gripped the chainsword tightly and charged, swinging his new weapon with easy. The razor teeth bit through the orks' flesh, and sent blood flying across him. He waved his free hand, and the regular Space Marines backed away, firing their bolters with careful precision.

Matthew fought side by side with Terminators, but eventually he was worn down. His hand grew heavy, and the Terminator's squad was slowly being taken down. There seemed to be no end to the orks. Groaning he lowered he chainsword, whipped out his plasma pistol, and unloaded the rest of the clips onto any orks that came into range.

An axe caught Matthew in the back, and he fell to his knees. The ork let out a roar of triumph and Matthew spun around, swing his chainsword and cutting the ork's stomach wide open, and fell on top of the Space Marine. Matthew groaned pushed the ork off of him, taking the greenskin's Slugga pistol from its holster. He grinned and fired, sending the inaccurate gun's bullets flying everywhere. Soon, the gun's blast weren't the only ones he heard. He turned around and saw three Basilisks firing their heavy guns. The shells were crashing into the ork's line, and several squads of Imperial Guardsmen were firing their lasguns at the orks, sending the green wave into retreat.

Force Commander Matthew com link vibrated, someone was speaking, and laughing, "Told you I'd get you some reinforcements!"


	4. Reclaiming Section A3

**A/N Here's the next chapter! Oh and please! If you read this, please leave a review, no matter how short. I feel like I'm writing to an extremely small audience of two people…if any. I won't even mind criticizing, though please keep that readable. (I'm not good at reading 'dis is tha wurst crap ive ever red! lurn ta rite! **

* * *

Captain Josh winced at Commissar Colonel Roland continued his yelling. "You are the worst excuser for an officer I have seen! You retreated without even holding your ground!"

Josh growled, "Sir some of my men could have died."

Roland slammed his fist on the table. The two officers were in the barracks arguing over Captain Josh's 'tactical move'. Josh had been assigned to reclaim a small piece of a section of the city and hold it until reinforcements came. He had went in with three full squads, armed to the teeth, and came back without one causality. Problem was, he didn't even engage the enemy. Josh believed one man's life was more important than any military objective. Commissar Roland believed each life of his men was important, and taking an objective with a massive amount of casualties was a foolish maneuver, but Josh had walked into the section of the city, seen the orks, and retreated.

It had been three weeks since Force Commander Matthew and his Space Marines fought off the ork assault. In one week the orks had breached the walls of the city of Karis Porgagis. In one more week they broke through the lines of defenders and began infesting the sections of the city. Then in one last week, they had turned the entire city into a battleground. Now the defenders of the city spent their time either defending a section of the Capital, or trying to retake one. One of the pieces of the city could have been in their hands by now had Captain Josh followed his orders and held his ground until reinforcements arrived.

Commissar Roland began to lecture more, but there was a knock on the door. He growled a small 'Enter', and the door creaked open a Sergeants head coming in. "Commissar Colonel, you wished to speak with me?"

Commissar Roland nodded, a new plan forming in his head. "Yes, come in Sergeant Barne." The Sergeant entered warily, expecting more yelling from the Commissar, he had heard it as soon as he had entered the barracks. "Yes sir?"

Commissar Roland began his question lightly, "Tell me Sergeant, you have orders to assault a location. You can either, go in, see the number of hostiles and fall back without even fighting and save all your men, or you can charge it and lose a small handful of men, but take it. Which would be your choice?"

Sergeant Barne answered immediately it was, after all, a simple question. "The second choice sir, I would feel horrible about losing men, but if they aren't' massacred in my assault then I would feel fortunate for taking my objective, and not losing to many men. After all sir, men die in war."

Roland smiled; the boy was far smarter than he had thought at first. "Good choice. You see our dear friend Captain Josh has failed to follow his orders, he was sent into section A-3 and told to find a defendable spot and hold it until back-up arrived. Him and his three fully armed squads entered, and walked out immediately. He did not even engage the enemy. "What would you suggest Sergeant as punishment, if you were Commissar?"

Sergeant Barne gulped, he knew Captain Josh was a good man, but Commissar Roland was a higher ranking officer, and frankly, he preferred the Commissar. "A posting in a less responsible demanding area…sir?"

The Commissar grinned slightly, "You're to kind Captain Barne, please escort Sergeant Josh's squads back into the section and retake it…along with your squad as well."

Barne was silent for a moment, then he smiled and chuckled lightly. "Sir, you have our ranks confused."

The Commissar turned away, opening a can of cold, local beer. "No Captain, I don't…"

* * *

_Captain _Barne led his squad of men to Sergeant Josh's three squads outside of the barracks. Barne's squad was an assembly of men who had seen a fair bit of combat, and had exchanged their lasguns for weaponry they had looted from better equipped troops on the field, mainly Kasrkin. Josh's men had either kept their low powered lasguns, probably to look more loyal to the Imperium, they needed it for all the rules they broke.

Captain Barne nodded to the men, "Aright load up, we're going to retake sector A-3. There will most likely be heavy ork resistance, mainly on the ground. So we're going to take it building by building. Hopefully there will be cover to hide behind when we move in." The squads nodded and followed him, arming their weapons as they prepared for combat.

* * *

Section A-3 was a mass of worn and lifeless buildings. Blocks of stone that had once held up the buildings were missing, either from the bombardment the orks had grown so fond of or for some other reason the orks had. Captain Barne had led his men through a barricade manned by several squads of Space Marines and three Imperial Guard Hellhounds. One they had made it through the barricade they only saw large groups of orks patrolling the section, it would be impossible to take it in a charge, as Captain Barne had guessed. Instead he had them carefully sneak along the way till they found an entrance to a building. Along the way however, Captain Barne noticed that most of Josh's squads had no bayonets attached to their lasguns. He question the Sergeant about this.

Josh grunted as they warily entered a broken building. "Because, we never engage in close combat, too many casualties are sustained, even if it does give victory." When Barne asked why they didn't equip them just in case Josh answered with a mischievous smile, "We sold em for credits, gambling is far better than close combat eh?" It took all of Barne's strength to hold in his reply.

The building had apparently been a former restaurant, which could be seen via the upturned tables, chairs, and kitchen appliances. Captain Barne took point and aimed his lasgun at any shadow that looked unnaturally. '_Calm down, orks aren't subtle. They would rather charge than hide...'_ he thought to himself. Then a crash awoke all of the soldiers from their wary day dreams, it was the sound of a hundred metal pots slamming into the ground.

All of the trooper's guns snapped to the doorway to attention, and Captain Barne waved his hand for one of the men to take point. One of the troopers from his own squad moved forward to the doorway, his bayonet ready to stab. Once he looked through the doorway however, he lowered his weapon and swore. "What it is?" A few men asked. The trooper growled, "Sergeant."

Captain Barne pushed his way through the men and into the kitchen. Sergeant Josh had rustled through the kitchen, knocking over everything and anything until he had made it to the fridge. He broke the door open and pulled out a can of beer. Captain Barne pulled him away from it, took the already half empty can and crushed it under his boot before yelling a gruff, "What are you doing!?"

Sergeant Josh merely opened another can and answered, "I was thirsty. There were no orks around so I decided to get a beer."

Captain Barne growled, he was a lot deadlier when he was facing someone of lower rank…and with the possible threat of orks entering any moment. "Get back to the group!" The Sergeant shrugged and walked back to his squad, mumbling something about stuck up officers. The Captain did a swift check of the area, and led his squads on.

The next building was an apartment, with overturned sofas, desks, and even large gaps in walls. The squads of Sergeant Josh immediately took up defensive positions, while Captain Barne's men scouted out the area. The only things they found were the bodies of several Local Militia, their lasguns missing, and two cut up corpses of civilians.

When they returned the Captain had formed a new plan. "Aright, the orks apparently have not stationed any of their men here to hold off a new attack squad. Unfortunately we can't secure the section of the city without fighting any orks and sending them to retreat. So I want my squad to stay here and form up a defense line, and make sure no orks make it through. I'll take the Sergeant Josh's men back to take out any ork emplacements they've formed outside. Maybe then we can start a little ruckus." The troops nodded and followed their commanders.

Once they were out of earshot of Sergeant Josh, Captain Barne turned his attention to the three squads following him. "Look, I know Josh was a good man, and I'm just an officer who demands too much…" He was cut off as one of the men raised his hands. "What is it?"

The man sighed before answering, "Josh was a good man, but he disregarded his orders too many times. When an officer is punished, so is his squad, and we were punished to where we would rather follow orders than just ignore them like Josh led us. He was a good man, but a horrible captain. We trust you will be better…"

Captain Barne smiled; this was better than he had hoped. He knew the squads wouldn't mutiny him, as long as he made sure the orders were followed….to an extent, and he was sure his men would be in command of Josh, not the other way around. With a newfound hope he led the squads out the buildings, their target? A machine gun next that was pointing towards the orks rather than them…

* * *

The squad left under Sergeant Josh's command overturned a number of tables to form good positions against any ork weapons. The sergeant just spent his time complaining about how useless it was. No orks were coming. He shut up immediately however, when they heard thick grunts outside the door. The orks _were _coming. Josh let out a small unmanly squeal and ducked behind an overturned chair. "We should go."

One of the soldiers looked at him, disgusted. "Wimp, we were ordered to fight, and we will."

Josh stared, wide eyed. "We could _die!"_

The soldier grunted, making sure his lasgun was fully loaded. "That's how war is, so if we die, so be it. I'd rather die fighting these orks than in a bed fifty years from now, wishing I had fought and not run away." Josh frowned and gripped his gun tightly, his knuckles turning white in the process.

The door burst opened, and the firing began…

* * *

Captain Barne fired his lasgun, enjoying the butt of the gun slamming into his shoulder every time he fired. They had taken the machine gun nest without too much difficulty (most of the orks were facing the other way), but once they had taken it a wave of orks had charged them. With three squads, good cover, and one lasgun that shot well over a hundred rounds a minute holding the machine gun nest had been easier than Captain Barne had expected. However he did learn something, numbers _did _matter. He had three squads, but the orks had numbers that just kept coming, and they were wearing the Imperial Guard down.

Captain Barne fired again, relishing the task of fighting the savages. Each bolt that fired from his lasgun struck a target, and even if it didn't kill, it crippled. An ork roared and charged, Barne fired, shooting three bolts in the beast's chest before he dropped. A shot erupted next to Barne, he growled and opened fire, the bolts whipping out from the barrel of the lasgun and slamming into the ork's unarmored bodies. There seemed to be no end to the green skins, and if this was a fraction of their force, then he dreaded to think how many they truly numbered. He could only hope Sergeant Josh and the other men were faring better.

* * *

The men under Sergeant Josh were faring pretty well. The cover they had made worked well as they blasted the orks entering the room. The orks were stuck in the narrow hallway, and only one could make it through the door at once, so the men were having an easy time forcing them back. Sergeant Josh however, was trying to convince the men to retreat.

"There's too many! No one will die if we retreat!" He yelled, not even firing his lasgun.

One of the soldiers growled, "More will die! If we don't reclaim this sector, the fight will drag on! And then men will die, at least here we can sustain less causalities." The man continued to fire, sending orks and even 'grots' to oblivion with his well placed shots from his 'looted' carbine gun. "Come on boys! We can hold off this greenskins! They're no challenge." He fired again, splattering an ork's brains all over the apartment. "Come on. Is that all you boys got?"

The wall next to the door blew apart, sending debris everywhere. A large group of orks charged through. "Oh, so that's all you got." the soldier mumbled.

* * *

Barne reloaded his lasgun and flicked it on full automatic. He held down the trigger, and began ripping apart the orks getting to near the nest. He was scared more than a heretic in a Space Marine camp filled with Inquisitors, but he didn't care. As long as he kept those orks away, then he could live. His lasgun sputtered and died, out of ammo. He yanked out the clip, switched the gun back to semi-automatic, and shoved another clip into it. This time he switched the power to full, blasting any orks close enough with a large bolt from his lasgun. One shot was all he needed, each blast leaving a large scorch mark onto any orks that approached him.

Captain Barne fired and blew off an orks arm. He fired twice more, and felt himself being lifted up into the air. He glanced around, and nearly screamed. An ork was lifting him up and was going to…CRASH…and slammed him into the ground. Barne groaned, he felt something break as he was hit the ground. He went for his gun, but the ork grabbed him again. This time reacting, Barne aimed a kick at the beast's head. His foot didn't exactly hurt the ork, but it threw him into confusion. Barne took the moment to pull out his combat knife and slam it into the ork's eye. The ork roared with pain and ran around, swinging the captain like crazy. Barne screamed in pain, he found out where he had broken a bone, in his ribs, which just happened to be where the ork was holding him, tightly too.

Barne winced and nearly blacked out. Just when he was going to lose consciousness he heard a slight 'boom', a feeling of liquid and soft solid splattering over his body, and the ork's grip lightening. He opened his eyes and found himself on the ground, the ork's head blown off (or blown up) and one of his soldiers holding a smoking gun. He nodded his thanks and pulled himself out of the ork's dead grip.

Captain Barne retrieved his lasgun, and continued firing dropping orks left and right, he definitely wasn't eager for another wrestling match with one of the orks. Slowly and gradually, he noticed a slow in the ork's charge. It soon turned to the orks stopping charging and sticking with firing their crude guns. Apparently they had run out of reinforcements…

* * *

Trooper Garen was one of bravest in Captain Barne's original squad. He fired his hand pistol swiftly and efficiently. His empty lasgun lay discarded on the wooden floor of the apartment. The pistol may not have killed the orks quickly like the lasgun did, but he knew it was better going toe to toe with a three-hundred pound ork with an axe that could easily severe his head, with an empty lasgun and a bayonet at the end.

Many of the squad had followed his example, but were keeping up enough fire to keep the orks back. One of the few with a lasgun glanced at the window and yelled to Garen, the closest thing to a leader they had (Sergeant Josh was firing blankly in a corner). "Garen! Captain Barne's pushed the orks outa reinforcements! That should mean this all that's left of their force!"

Garen grinned and fired at an ork's head, piercing straight through it, but oddly not killing it. "Excellent! Boys! This is all that's left, use your grenades!" Most of the troops grinned mischievously as they pulled out their grenades, pushed the activate button, and threw them straight at the cramped ork group. Most of the orks stopped firing and glanced stupidly at the horde of grenades flying at them, but a few were smart enough to push their way through and run. Either way, nearly all of them were caught in the blast that sent a wave of killing fire through the hallway, completely eradicating any threat the orks had posed. The survivors had no will to fight, and ran, dropping their weapons in the process. Garen holstered his pistol; they had reclaimed the sector…for now.

* * *

Commissar Roland was immensely impressed with Captain Barne and his squads. He had them given the next day off, free from an assignment…unless the orks pushed into a major sector of course, and had each man's armor and weapons repaired and even upgraded slightly. 'They had done a brilliant service to the Imperium,' he said, and one sector was once again under the Emperor's control. Victory was surely theirs soon.

* * *

Captain Vares, captain of a regiment of the local militia, ran along with his men. The orks were on their tail, and his regiment had been massacred! He ducked behind a pillar and squeezed off several shots from his civilian lasgun, then he rain again. Ahead he could see a line of red, he didn't know who it was, it could be orks or allies, but he didn't care. He had almost made it when he heard them yell duck, he ignored the warning and was caught in the fleet of missiles that erupted from the tanks behind the Space Marines. The missiles slammed into the orks and sent them too oblivion.

Force Commander Matthew spit on the ground, these local militia were fools. They couldn't even follow orders, even when it would save their life. He holstered his plasma pistol and his hand instinctively moved to the hilt of the chainsword, the one he recovered from the dead ork nearly three weeks before. He turned to the line Space Marines and tanks behind him, "Move forward." He commanded, the battle would still drag on for awhile…


	5. Kasrkin Blood

**A/N Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, I had computer troubles, and I was away for awhile (Then I had to write this and really work with it). I must say I am a little proud of this. I'd like to thank those that reviewed. I hope this was a bit longer, and quenched a little of that war thirst we all have.**

The iron double doors leading to section 4B were blasted to oblivion. The ork stationed on the other side grunted, confused, and looked towards the dust. A storm of blazing lasgun blasts erupted, blasting apart body parts. There was a roar and Imperial Guard Kasrkin sprinted through the cloud of dust, running straight at the orks.

Dash was one of the best Kasrkin soldiers. He had survived numerous missions and could turn the simplest thing into a weapon. He had been told to become an officer, he never did. He was trained to be a trooper, he was trained to kill, and that was what he would do.

Dash burst out of the dust cloud and fired his lasgun, blasting back any orks that got to close. The auto-target laser in his helmet picked up an ork less than three feet away. Dash spun around, and held down the trigger, and ripped apart the ork's body. He fired again, barely missing as the auto-targeter picked out his enemies, and he was glad to oblige. The laser shots burst from his lasgun, picking out orks heads with ease.

An ork roared and charged, swinging his cleaver at Dash. Dash growled and rolled under the blade, spinning out with his lasgun, a large bayonet flying out near the barrel. Dash jammed the bayonet into the ork's side, releasing a spray of blood. The ork roared and Dash grinned and turned the gun, cutting deeper into the ork's body. The ork swung his cleaver at Dash's head, and Dash swung back his head just in time. Dash growled and held down the trigger to his lasgun, and fired his gun at the ork's insides.

Dash yanked out his gun as the ork screamed and tried to escape, only succeeding in throwing away more blood. Dash shrugged and aimed again, shooting as quickly as he could. There was so many orks…it was great! He bent on one knee, took aim, and fired. The shot slammed into an ork's head, splattering brain everywhere. The body slammed into another ork, who fell to the ground, tripping several charging orks. The orks on the ground began fighting amongst themselves, chopping at whatever they could find.

Dash smiled, emptying the remains of his clip on orks. He reloaded as one of the Sergeants yelled to his squad, "The militia is going to move around and provide support from the buildings! We have to keep the orks occupied with us while the militia takes the flank!" Dash glanced behind him, and sure enough the ragged militia soldiers were trying following the wall, trying to keep out of sight. He remembered his orders, keep the orks occupied. He yanked out a grenade and threw it with all of his might. The grenade slammed into a group of orks and erupted into fire, sending flaming ork bodies over the entire battlefield.

Dash glanced around; he wouldn't do that well without any cover. An ork shot slammed into his armor, as if to agree with him. He swore as his armor bent and flowed, trying to cover the wound. '_At least it was on of their weak guns.'_ Dash thought, firing at the ork. Dash ran down a slope to a large slap of stone that had broken off of a building, and ducked behind it.

Dash bent leaned from the side and fired, feeling the recoils of the lasgun as he fired into the ork's line. The bolts killed several orks, and injured far more. Dash reloaded his clip, and the ground next to him exploded in a flash of fire and scrap metal. Dash was thrown through the air and into a nearby building, his armor absorbing most of the impact. Dash fell to the ground, wincing in pain. He lifted his lasgun back up and fired into the ork's line. Dash was always one to look on the bright side of things, but he saw so many orks. Even he wavered; the feeling of the death creeping up on him turned his bones to ice. He shook his head, he wouldn't think of such things. He continued firing, the Kasrkin had skill, and that was how they would win. Well, he thought.

A missile flew straight towards him, and Dash jumped away just in time as where he had been a second before, erupted into a brilliant stage of fire. Dash turned his head and saw what had fired at him…a Killa Khan. It was caked in mud, blood, and ork's insignias, and it was doing massive damage to the Kasrkin line. Even if the militia started firing from the buildings, no lasfire was going to take that Killa Khan down.

Sergeant Larkes hacked his way through the ork line. His chainsword cut through the greenskins in a flurry of metal, blood, and the occasional ork bone. He had separated himself from his squad and dug himself deeper into the ork line. He was one of the few men that could go against an ork, and come out with only a minor scrape. Which was exactly why he fought his way through the ork lines. If there was one thing he loved more than cutting down orks however, it was his grenades. A belt lined with grenades hung from his waist, each begging to be primed and used.

When the Killa Khan approached, Sergeant Larkes turned and began to hack his way out. He wasn't a fool, he knew a chainsword and a bolt pistol wouldn't even put a dent in the Killa Khan. And the grenades, well it'd take a horde of them to even slow the Killa Khan, unless a weak spot was hit. Unfortunately it was…difficult to let a grenade hit right, they did bounce back after all.

Sergeant Larkes pushed his way deeper through the line, a little more and he was o…the Killa Khan's hand gripped his body and lifted him into the air. Larkes had no time to scream as he was thrown into the air, slamming into a building and landing on a hill of rubble.

Larkes grimaced as he touched his ribs…broken, definitely broken. He had lost his chainsword, but his bolt pistol was intact so he could…an orks roar threw him off his focus. Larkes snapped his head to the voice and nearly screamed. An ork charged towards him, swinging his axe down, unfortunately, the ork's aim was...nearly true. The axe slammed into the Sergeant's legs, severing them from the body.

This time Larkes did scream, and it pierced through every ear on the battleground. However, the Sergeant wasn't an idiot; he didn't let the ork get any further. He yanked out his bolt pistol and unloaded the entire clip on the greenskin. The ork tumbled down, and Larkes rolled over. The hill gave him an excellent vantage point over the battle, but he was dead anyway, his was losing blood and there was no medic around to help him. He glanced down at the belt of grenades on his waist, he was dead anyway.

With a solemn face, the Sergeant primed every one of the grenades, and pulled off the belt. He turned them on full power, and dragged himself to the edge of the hill, he could cover all the distance he needed to. Sergeant Larkes inhaled, armed the grenades, roared a praise to the Emperor, and pulled himself off the hill and spiraled down to the field.

The Sergeant's body slammed into the Killa Khan's upper body, around where the pilot would be. That was when the grenades exploded. The explosion racked the body of every soldier on the field, and sent pieces of the Killa Khan slamming into the ork bodies below, instantly killing a piece of the ork resistance.

At that moment, thousands of laser blasts erupted from the buildings. Cutting through the air and smashing the ork's army. The militia had set inside the buildings, and routing the orks. The surviving orks yelled and ran, scrambling over each other in an attempt to flee.

The militia cheered, but the Kasrkin did not. They knew orks could return, and they did now. An army of ork armor rolled forward. Over twenty vandalized Leman Russ tanks leading the charge, with the orks that had retreated rallying behind them.

Dash groaned and dropped down behind an overturned truck. His lasgun wasn't much use against the tanks, and he had exhausted his supply of grenades before the Dreadnaught was even destroyed. He glanced as Paulie, one of the Kasrkin in his squad kneeled down, and fired his missile launcher. The missile flew in a spiral, slammed into a Leman Russ, and sent it across the field. The Kasrkin uttered silent cheers as Paulie reloaded, however the orks weren't stupid…well not that stupid, and opened fire.

One ork might be a horrible shot, but a thousand firing their guns at the same target are sure to hit. Paulie was torso was thrown back, the rest of his body was scattered over the ground. Several others tried the same tactic, but met the same fate.

Dash glanced from his cover and cursed. The Leman Russ's had rolled forward and had begun their assault. Dash covered his ears as the ground began to turn into a torrent of fire. He looked at one of the sergeants and yelled, "We're dead out here as long as those Leman Russes keep firing!" An explosion shook the soldiers around him and scattered debris over them.

The militia were firing at the armored vehicles, with no effect, and the Kasrkin were trying to find safe cover. Dash tapped his Vox Link, "There's too many! We have to pull back!"

A trooper answered him, "Dash! You want to pull back?"

Dash growled, "There's no way we can take them out! We don't have any artillery, and none of our heavy weapon carriers can get a clear shot!"

A corporal answer him, "We don't retreat trooper! We are Kasrkin and we will fight!"

"There is nothing to fight! We're dying out as it is. We have to retreat, there's artillery behind us and we can bring them in range!"

The corporal can again, "Negative! The artillery pulled back, they had to defend a section that was breached."

Dash wiped his eyes, "There's nothing we can do! Even if we used all of our grenades we wouldn't dent the orks."

"You're not scared of a few stolen Leman Russes are ya?" The trooper came again.

"Look behind em idiot! They have even more vehicles, we can't win this!"

The Vox Link was silent for a moment, then it fired up again. "He's right! We have to fall back! We can…AGGGHHHH!!!" Whoever spoke had been destroyed by an artillery shell.

The colonel was back, "NO! No retreat! We're stayin here!"

Dash cussed the Colonel, shut off his Vox Link, yanked out his laspistol, and stepped out from under his cover firing madly with it and his lasgun. The blasts were merely shrugged off by the tanks, and they turned their barrels to him, ceasing their former barrage. Before they fired, another lasblast slammed into their side. It was from a Kasrkin at the other end of the field. Before the tanks could adjust to this, the entire Guard army rose up and began fire, thousands of lasbolts erupting from the barrels of the elite commandos of the Guard, and finding their targets in the armored hulls of the stolen Leman Russes.

Perhaps it was because the sheer number of blasts fogged the vision of the tanks, maybe it was because the Leman Russes had used up most of their ammunition, but despite so many theories, it was best believed that the orks halted their assault, when they saw the sheer number of humans standing up from their trenches, march, and fight. The march of a thousand men who knew their deaths were at hand, but marched anyway. That was what most likely drew the orks into a spasm of fear and retreat.

The Kasrkin marched forward, guns blazing in a storm of fire. The ork 'boyz' were sent into retreat under the storm, and the ork's vehicles didn't fire, they were stunned. A sergeant of the Guard raised his sword and waved his men onward. In one massive battle cry, the entire Kasrkin army charged, meeting the remaining ork resistance in a flash of axes and bayonets.

Dash ducked behind an ork's swing, sliced the stomach of one in front of him, and hopped on to a Leman Russ. He pulled out a grenade he had salvaged from a fallen Kasrkin, and threw it into the tank, via the barrel. Dash jumped down and ran, there was a rumble, and the tank exploded into fire.

Dash was several yards away when a piece of the tank slammed into his leg. He yelled and hit the ground. The Kasrkin moaned and held his leg with his left hand, and in his right he yanked out his pistol, blasting away at the orks as if his life depended on it…which it did.

In a matter of minutes, the clip ran dry and Dash was forced to resort to his field knife. He yanked the blade from his boot and swung it in a perfect arc, slice off an ork's thumb in the process. The knife's hilt was a perfect six and a half inches, and its blade stretched out in a curve for eight inches. With the correct flick of a wrist the knife could slice off a mans hand easier than cutting a piece of bread. That was also exactly what Dash intended to do with it as well.

* * *

The battle had ended once Dash had blown the first Leman Russ, it gave the other Kasrkin the idea to repeat the process. Then, with the front offense down, the vehicles behind the tanks had fled, and those that hadn't metal death from the commandos of the Imperial Guard.

Eventually, the orks had been wore down to a heavy resistance at then end of the section. Their resistance however, didn't last long. Facing heavy fire from the Kasrkin and the militia stationed in the buildings' upper levels.

Finally, when the orks had dug in as deep as they could go, their area was blown to the warp in an explosion of fire and heat. Behind the Kasrkin's lines was an line of Imperial Guard artillery vehicles, Chimeras, Basilisks, Leman Russes, and several Hellhounds. Charing behind them were Imperial Guard reinforcements, rank beyond rank of the 'workhorses' armed with their lasguns and flak vests. They charged around the artillery, filling gap in the Kasrkin line.

Dash smiled inside his helmet when a medic leaned down to help him. The man handed him a tablet, and Dash swallowed gratefully. He felt his body go numb, and could even ignore it when the medic pulled out the shard from his leg. The medic spat on the ground and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant and a piece of cloth. He poured the foul smelling liquid over the cloth and held it to Dash's wound.

Dash screamed as the disinfectant cut through the sense of numbness the pill had provided. He winced and held in another scream as the medic bandaged his wound, finally the man nodded that he was through. "You should head to the back of the tanks!" The man yelled, "We have it covered here."

Dash shook his head, "Can't! Got a job to do."

The medic smiled, "We got it under control. Head back to the tanks, they can fix up your wound better than I can."

Dash shoved his knife back in his pocket, reloaded his laspistol, holstered it, and grabbed his lasgun. "I've gotten through worst."

The medic grabbed Dash's shoulder, "Sorry! But the fights over my friend just lo…" A massive explosion threw him off his speech…and his feet.

The wall behind the ork's remaining line had been destroyed in a massive wave of demolition technology. Rocks fell from the sky, and soot took the form of a snow fall. Behind the smoke was line beyond line of orks, waving their weapons in a victory salute. Then, without hesitation, they charged!

Dash helped the man up and switched his lasgun to auto. He nodded to the line of Kasrkin taking refuge behind the destroyed ork vehicles. "You should move up. There's going to be more fighting before this day is over my friend!" Then he ran to join his comrades, aiming his gun over the ruins of a tank. "They don't have any cover so unleash as much firepower as you can! With numbers like theirs you will hit at least one of them!" The Kasrkin followed Dash's instructions; they put their trust in him.

As the Kasrkin unloaded their weapons into the ork line, the Imperial Guardsmen were setting up behind quick makeshift fortifications, craters, overturned vehicles, and rubble. The Hellhounds rolled forward and moved their barrels towards the charging orks, and unleashed their weapons. Fire belched from the Hellhounds and roasted the charging orks, igniting the frontal ork force in a brilliant wave of fire.

As the flames cleared and the Hellhounds reload an ork stepped forward, ignoring the burnt corpses in front of him, waving a massive 'Rokkit Launcher'. He bent on one knee and fired three times in rapid succession before being blown down by the heavy amount of fire from the Imperial Guard. The first two rokkits flew in a crazed spiral, slamming into several squads of Kasrkin sending the soldiers flying through the air, each missing several body parts, if not more. The third rokkit flew in a zigzag pattern and slammed into the Hellhound, igniting the very air in an explosion of unstable explosives and the strange musty scent of smoke.

Dash was thrown back, thanking his armor for once again absorbing most of the pain. He looked behind him, the orks had fired rokkits at the buildings, sending militia falling to the ground, destroying thei support they had offered. Dash watched Kasrkin and guardsmen try to defend the survivors, the orks were almost upon them. He grabbed his Lasgun and stood up, the bayonet flying out.

Dash held up his gun, as the orks broke the small defense they had and began the close combat…

* * *

Commissar Colonel Roland watched the battle from a working camera on the street. When victory had thought had been achieved, the ork's reinforcements turned it into another street fight. He tapped the communicator on the side of his desk, "Corporal Rex?"

There was silence before a voice answered, "What is it Commissar?"

"What's the situation in 4B? Why haven't the soldiers been ordered to retreat?"

There was once more silence as the colonel studied reports for an answer, "If the orks take the sector they may find out they can blow the walls, and that will lead to the inner city."

Roland took a breath, the Inner city was the last bit of the civilization that the city had that wasn't a battle-field. More importantly it was loaded with civilians. "Wait, why didn't they do such a thing when they controlled it?"

The colonel laughed, it was a forced one. "They didn't think of it, that was why we wanted the sector as soon as possible, and why we sent Kasrkin."

"Right…," the Commissar thought for a moment.

"Look Commissar Colonel, don't do it!" But Roland was already gone.

Roland ripped the Chainsword off of the wall and strapped it too his side, belting on his body armor in the process. After making sure his bolter was capable of combat, and he had a full case of clips he strode out of his room into the barracks.

The Commissar slammed his heavy fist on the doors, his heavy voice breaking through them as easy as an Ogryn could. "Suit up! We're moving out! NOW!"

Luckily, Commissar Colonel Roland's men were well trained, and in a matter of minutes had assembled outside the barracks, prepping their lasguns for the upcoming battle.

* * *

Dash slammed the butt of his lasgun into an ork's face, and followed up with his bayonet, slicing through the beast's neck. The ork's were not as numerous as before, thanks to the Hellhounds, but the vehicles behind the Guard's line were unable to fire, or they would kill their men. So now it came to close quarters combat, a mass of flashing axes and bayonets.

Dash felt an ork's heavy shoulder slam into him, throwing him back several feet, and he felt his lasgun flying out from his hand, and skittered across the field. He swore and pulled out his pistol and fired, blowing out the ork's brain. He groaned and stood up, whipping out his knife. Now it was truly close quarters.

The melee dragged on for over an hour, with Kasrkin's and guardsmen being hacked through by the ork's superior strength. Orks had met many casualties as well, but unfortunately close-combat was where they showed their true colors, mainly red for blood.

Dash was thrown back as an ork slammed into him with his powerful shoulder. Dash panted as he stood back up, unloading his handgun on the ork. He had failed to retrieve his gun; the midst of battle wasn't the time. He jumped back from an ork's axe swing and swung out with his knife, slicing into the orks hand, and into his throat in a follow up swipe.

An ork's heavy blade cut into his shoulder, Dash screamed and stabbed his blade into the beast's eye. The ork screamed and reeled back as Dash jumped on him, tearing his blade back out and stabbing him several times in the face before the greenskin fell to the ground, dead.

Dash held his shoulder, his laspistol discarded on the ground. He was too tired to fight now. He grip his blade tight, until he heard the roars…

They were the yells from heavy men, but unmistakably human…or slightly human. An group of Ogryns smashed into the ork's, meeting them with just as much power as they carried.

Dash noticed a man in the Ogryns' line, a man wearing a Commissars cap, and wielding a chainsword that cut through the orks with mighty waves. Behind the Ogryns were several hundred Imperial Guardsmen, firing their lasguns whenever they had the chance at an opening in the ork line.

Once again a medic found him, and repeated much of the same process as before. "What's happening?" Dash said, over the roar of the mutated humans.

The medic smiled, "Commissar Roland rounded up his force and several squads of Ogryns to relieve you. Guess we got here in time eh?"

Dash nodded, coughing up an unhealthy amount of blood. "Uhh, yea." He glanced towards the combat, and saw the reinforcements send the orks into retreat, only to be cut down by the guns from the artillery that had waited so long to be used. Then, when he knew the battle was over, Dash fell unconscious…


	6. Crow's Food

**A/N I am sorry I haven't been able to update again. I've been drawing a blank and my internet went out (darn dial up cables!) so I didn't see a point in using the computer, and then I drew another blank. So unfortunately this chapter is short, but its mainly a prequel to the next one, and to show I'm still alive *checks vital signs* "Nope I'm still alive!" Okay once again, sorry for not updating, and THANK YOU for the reviews. I'm really touched by the reviews. Lord Magos J. loved your story, I'll be dropping a review soon, and by Army of Kasrkin, I did mean a lot, but I consider an army of Kasrkin and an army of Guardsmen two completely different numbers, but there still was a lot of Kasrkin, but it was about all of the ones they had stationed in the city. Sorry for wasting time, READ ON!**

Commissar Colonel Roland examined a map of the city. It had been over month after the Kasrkins' victory and the war had changed from armies breaching sectors to small squads trying to complete objectives without dying. The Guard's numbers had dropped, and still there seemed to be no break in the ork's numbers. Now, officers like Roland could only hope that the squads sent out could complete their missions.

Roland leaned back as he stared at one of the sectors, Command had received no reports from them after an hour when they sent in their squads. They were most likely dead…

* * *

Dash swung out his curved nice slicing open an ork's thick throat. The Kasrkin ducked under an ork's axe and slashed out at the beast's knee's sending him to the ground, and finished him by cutting open the head. Dash watched as his fellow commando's began to finish off the remaining orks.

Dash tapped his Vox Link, "This is Sergeant Dash of the 3rd Retrieval Company! Force Commander Matthew what's your status over?"

Force Commander Matthew grunted as he ducked behind the barricade of crates and barrels they had found. A Space Marine stood up and fired his bolter into the ork's group. Matthew began speaking into his own Vox Link, "Under heavy fire! Ork shooters are pinning down our position!"

Dash voice followed in a matter of moments, "Roger that, Kasrkin are comin."

"No Sergeant, you have your orders now follow them! We're Marine's, we'll handle it!"

"And we're Kasrkin, we can handle it as well."

Commander Matthew smiled, "That's an order Sergeant, complete your mission!"

"Sorry, you're not a Guard, so take that order and shove it..." static destroyed the rest of the conversation.

Commander Matthew nodded, the Sergeant was a good man, but a foolish one. "Sorry, Sergeant, follow your orders. Trust me; my Marines can handle it, besides the objective is more important." Sergeant Dash's reluctant agreement came several minutes later. "Fine, but make sure you survive!" Then the Vox Link went silent.

Commander Matthew gripped his new power sword in his right hand, it was time. He slid out his Plasma Pistol, "Ok Marines, lets go!" The Space Marines gripped their weapons and roared, pulling themselves over the the barricade.

The distance was closed swiftly, the Marines fired their bolters during their charge, picking off several orks. Force Commander Matthew slammed his weight into a shooter boy crushing the collar bone. He spun around his blade flying in a semi-circle and beheaded an ork, the swing was followed by several shots from his plasma pistol, burning deep into another ork's face.

The Space Marines engaged the ork's in a gory battle. Bolters and shootas engaged in close quarters, blowing body pieces in wide areas. One of the Marines had an axe smash into his helmet, falling to the ground in pain, a moment later he was crushed under the heavy blows of several axes. In the end his armor was bent and crushed across, the orks that had done the deed met their end by the flame of one of the flamethrowers a Marine had carried. The fight escalated into the bashing of weapons into the bodies of the enemy, disfiguring the bones of the foe, and the Marines' own weaponry.

After a brief, but heavy and grim, battle, the Marines had sent the orks running for cover, literally the greenskins were trying to find cover so they could return to the ranged combat, but the remaining Marines ended that threat with their bolters. It put a swift and bloody end to the orks' petty attempts to gain the advantage over the battle-hardened troops.

Force Commander Matthew watched the corpses of the orks as they were feasted upon by the city's crows. The birds pecked at the flesh, rejoicing in their free meal. Matthew looked at the orks in disgust; he had no regrets about their fate. The orks were mindless animals, unfortunately they were deadly fighters.

Matthew glanced at a crow as it tried to take the flesh of a fallen Space Marine. One pull of the Commander's pistol ended the bird's hopes of a warm meal. Ork's may deserve that fate, Marines did not. The other crows had taken the message and stayed clear of the few fallen Marines, there were still many ork corpses for their pick.

The Force Commander examined his Power Sword for any nicks or scratches as his Marines searched the orks for any info. There was a heavy crack, and a Space Marine's helmet blew too pieces, along with the soldier's head.

Force Commander Matthew snapped his heard to the sound and saw a group of orks charging towards them, waving axes and blasting (or trying to blast) the Space Marines with their guns. Matthew raised his Plasma Pistol and fired, the blast caught an ork in the throat, sending it too its knees to be paraded over by its 'friends'. He lowered his pistol and waved his sword, barking orders to the marines. "Get your bolters! Fall back to the higher ground in the alley, we can gain the advantage! Lay down suppressive fire as we move!" The Space Marines grabbed their weapons and unleashed their rounds onto the ork troops, all the while falling back to the alley.

Matthew fired his Plasma Pistol repeatedly, each blast hitting an ork, unfortunately this only slow the progress. He sighed, reloaded the clip, and grasped his Power Sword tightly, preparing for the connection as his soldiers did their best to halt the assault from close up.

The orks connected to marine's higher position with axes and blades swinging in their powerful fists. An ork at the head's life was ended, only seeing the end of a bolter's barrel before his head was blown to bits. Commander Matthew engaged the orks in bloody close combat duel, his power sword sending them back in clusters, making them easier for the marine's to pick out when they unleashed their bolters on the greenskins.

Unfortunately far too often an ork would make it close to Force Commander, forcing his attention to that unluckily ork while the others closed the gap between them an the Space Marines. The fight dragged on for sometime, forcing the orks to stay bottled up as they fought in the narrow alley, unable to provide ranged assistance from their guns for fear of hitting their own. This time however, the orks had the advantage of number, and the Space Marines did not, but whether one marine against a thousand orks, the marines fought, cutting down their opponents with their bolters.

* * *

Sergeant Dash bent low, not that it was needed. The orks down the hill were engaged in a bloody combat. A little assistance from his squad of Kasrkin would turn the tide of the better. He glanced down at his Hellgun, it was perfectly polished and ready for use, a Kasrkin was made for combat, and so was his weapon. Of course as the Guard's elite, they were trained in many weapon styles, including hand to hand and even Tau Fire Team weaponry.

The Sergeant nodded his head to the soldiers, "Aright boys, lets give em the true Imperial Guard welcome."

* * *

Force Commander Matthew cut deep into an orks arm, wincing as his blade hacked through bone. There was so many orks, he knew his men would die, but that wasn't what concerned him, they were marines, and they all died in the end, it only mattered how you died. What concerned him was that they were unable to complete the mission, Commander Matthew felt the guilt well up inside him as he dug his sword into an ork's chest.

The commander's thoughts were ended as the sounds of Hellguns sounded across the street. The heavy beat, beat of the guns as the barrels unleashed their blistering rounds into the back of the orks, cutting down over half of the ork resistance in only a matter of minutes, after all, the orks couldn't find the Kasrkin…

Ork bodies lay smoking on the alleyway as Force Commander Matthew examined the wreckage of the battle. The Kasrkin had saved him and his men, for that he was thankful, but he wasn't thankful the Kasrkin had ignored their duties. He growled, spat upon an ork's body, and walked towards the Guards.

Sergeant Dash, his Kasrkin armor stretched and ripped from his recent combat with the orks, was examining the bodies of several orks, trying to see if they carried any information. Matthew stormed over to him, "What in the name of Emperor were you thinking?" He barked, his voice destroying the after-battle silence.

Sergeant Dash barely looked up, despite the large Space Marine's yells. He merely stated calmly, "You needed help, would've died if my men hadn't intervened."

Force Commander Matthew swung his fist, as if he was trying to cut the very air around him. "That may be so, but you have you're objective, and it is not to safe me!" The Kasrkin smiled, standing up and holding his weapon by his side. "Does it matter? I still have time for the plan."

Matthew scowled, "If you don't get it done the militia is going to be charging on a foundry filled with orks!"

Sergeant Dash stepped forward, looking up to meet the Force Commander's eyes, "I _will _get it done, I had to make sure you were safe, you still have a job to do after all Commander. Honestly, not even a thank you for my work." After saying his piece placed his Hellgun on his shoulder and waved for his men, departing from the street, heading for the Poragis Mining facility.

Force Commander Matthew frowned, watching the Sergeant walk away. He spoke silently, so only he could hear himself. "Thank you Sergeant…"


	7. The Foundry

**A/N I am still alive! (Contrary to popular belief I'm sure) Now I could say I had an excuse, but I don't! So just read on!**

The Ironwork's Foundry stretched across the city of Karis Paragis, covering sections with its massive wingspan of metal walls and machinery. The emblems that had been engraved in the side of most of the wall, showing the city's proud symbol, a lion roaring in triumph, had been savagely painted over with crude ork insignias. Across the entire foundry, orks had turned whatever they could into a killing machine. The welding machines that had once repaired the vehicles of the city, now would belch flame into the waves of enemies, the mass creators, which had mass produced many products for the planet, had now been 'repaired' to fire anything that was loaded into it, and even the foundry's precious stampers, which would stamp all products and vehicles with the emblem of the Ironworks, now created an unending chorus of beats, following now rhythm or beat, only driving those close enough insane.

Orks, wielding their crude choppa's and stolen weaponry, patrolled every room of the massive foundry. Shoota boyz set up guard post inside the building, the orks had created a heavy defensive, if only focused on manpower. It would take massive causalities to storm and retake, but if played correctly, the orks could be destroyed without as many. After all, the orks had numbers for their defense, numbers only.

Sergeant Dash's plans unfolded, death would easily come to his Kasrkin squad if they just charged. Instead he had them spread out across the small platform they were located at. A small ramp led down to the lowest level of the foundry, leading straight to a heavy ork force. Luckily, the ramp was narrow, and could contain the orks from just pouring into them. Dash had one of his soldiers, a man who was handy at sneaking, place tube charges across the ramp.

Every Kasrkin found something with heavy cover, placing their Hellguns on top of it, and prepared for the ork charge. Dash loaded grenades, one from each man, onto a belt. He primed the grenades and aimed at a particular spot filled with orks, and threw the belt. The grenades beeped softly as they whizzed through the air, landing directly on top of the ork's head. The ork glanced dumbly at the belt before the frag grenades detonated…

The explosion ripped through the orks, burning their corpses, and beyond. The explosion tore apart a number of the foundry's support beams, sending areas of the upper level, catwalks, and even machinery, crashing down upon the orks. It took several moments for the orks to realize they were under attack. Once they did they charged, struggling with each other as they tried to force their way through the narrow walkway. Once they reached the end, the Kasrkin opened fired with their Hellguns.

As the orks charged the Kasrkin, their bodies were blown back by the sheer force of the Kasrkin's guns. The Hellguns unleashed lasfire at a rapid rate, cutting down the orks in massive causalities. The seconds turned to minutes as the Kasrkin use their superior weaponry to hold off the massive ork numbers and keep them from overwhelming them.

Eventually, and after several breaks in the Kasrkin defense, which resulted in orks charging through them and meeting their end as they tried to change it to a melee at the end of freshly reloaded Hellguns, the ork charge wore down. The sheer numbers of the orks were not able to overwhelm the Imperial Guard commandos. The remaining orks turned and ran, trying to find reinforcements in other rooms of the foundry. Sergeant Dash checked his ammo and nodded to his soldiers. Kasrkin Lore looked to his Sergeant, "Sir the orks will be coming back, and we can't hold off many more of them like this."

Sergeant Dash smiled, "I know, but we cleared out this room. Check your ammo and follow me!" With that he turned and slung himself over the railing of the platform, into the crevice of pipes and machinery below, followed by his loyal Kasrkin.

Dash landed on a pipe, watching as his Kasrkin regrouped behind him. Sergeant Dash waved to his men, "Follow me boys, and keep it down." They nodded and followed, crawling softly along the pipe as the roars of the orks as they discovered that their prey had fled. Dash chuckled as the Kasrkin continued, heading to the next room.

For what seemed like hours the Kasrkin proceeded along the pipes, the only sound coming from the soft _thump_ as the commandos walked the length of the pipe way. Sergeant Dash, hunched low under another pair of pipes, he could hear the steam flowing from one end to the other at a massive speed. The Kasrkin wondered where they led…he shrugged and continued.

For several minutes all was quiet as the elite followed the pipeline. Dash smiled to himself once more, a little further and he could, a loud pop interrupted his thoughts. The Sergeant snapped his head up, and saw an ork above him, near the regular floor, cheering waving his crude shooter. Dash smirked and raised his Hellgun, target sensors beeping as they found the vital organs to strike. The Kasrkin pulled the trigger…

The Hellgun lit up with lasfire as the gun went to work. Blasting the ork and slicing his body with its advanced firing abilities. In less then thirty seconds the ork was slumped across the railing, his chest, thighs, head, and neck blown open, exposing the thick red insides of the greenskin.

Sergeant Dash lowered his Hellgun, but swore as he heard the thick grunts of other orks. He snapped his head upward, seeing the greenskins aim their weapons at the Kasrkin. Sergeant Dash though for a moment, a plan forming in his brain. He grinned wickedly at the orks and aimed his gun...at the pipeline in front of him. The Kasrkin pressed the trigger once, and a flash of lasfire illuminated the small crevice where the Kasrkin were. The lasbolt slammed into the pipeline, and a jet of steam erupted from the hole, hiding the Sergeant from view. The other Kasrkin took the hint and repeated the process, turning the pipeline into a steam room.

The Kasrkin didn't wait, the moment the steam had erupted from the pipes they ran, their honed bodies balancing perfectly on the rounded pipes. The orks roared and cursed the Kasrkin, firing their shootas at them. One of the Kasrkin was hit in the back, and while the bolt didn't kill him, he slid forward, his head slamming into the pipe and his body falling down below, far from sight.

The other Kasrkin were far luckier, the ork's shots hitting more pipes and once again obscuring the elite soldiers from view. In the course of several minutes, the Kasrkin were out of sight, the corpses and busted pipes the only sign that they had been there…

* * *

"Charges?"

The man opposite the captain nodded, his lasgun gripped tightly in his hand. "Set sir," the militia began. "The charges are ready to blow when you give the order. Unless you'd like to give the guard more time…"

The captain shook his head, "No, if we don't move in now the advantage will be loss." The captain was an older man, nearing his forties that however, had not stopped him from fighting. He was a larger man, with broad shoulders and not every inch of him was muscle, but it was enough. He nodded his head to the demolitionist, a civilian like him.

The militia explosives expert took a breath and pressed his finger on a small button on the side of the explosive planted on the door. Then he jumped behind his comrades.

The door exploded…

The blast sent the door caving inward, smashing into the ground and causing smoke too fill the muddled ranks of the local militia. The captain, Loram Vaxe, waved his lasgun. "Aright boys, into the factory, the Imperial Guard have carved a wave in for us! For Karis Poragis!" The miltia cheered, chorusing the same salute over and over again as they charged into the factory, expecting a massively weakened resistance.

What they got was something far different…

* * *

Sergeant Dash oversaw one of the Kasrkin bind a wound in the leg of one of his comrades. The Sergeant sighed, the pipeline had led them to safety, but they were far away from their desired location. He prayed that the militia had not breached yet, or they could…would be slaughtered.

The sergeant sighed again, tapping the wall with his palm in a patternless way. The wounded Kasrkin's groans intensified as the pain tablets wore off and he felt the crudeness of the wound. Sergeant Dash merely looked away as the medic finished his work, handing the Kasrkin his own box of pain killer tablets. The wounded soldier gulped down half of the box before his moans died down to subtle murmurs.

Dash thought for a moment, and then picked up his Hellgun from where he had placed it, down near the pipes. He nodded to the others, "Get up, we've got to move out clear the way for the militia's charge." The Kasrkin nodded, several helping up their wounded comrade as to make it easy for him to come. The Sergeant climbed back onto the pipes, his Hellgun slung across his back. From the plans of the factory the bottom of pipeline had access to most areas of the factory, one being the room where the militia would breach for their assault. The Sergeant could only pray that the militia had not assaulted the room yet.

* * *

Lasfire and bolt shots flashed around the massive room, local militia dived for cover and trying to squeeze off shots where they could. Among the civilian soldiers, Commissar Sergeants barked orders to the makeshift fighters. Had it not been for the Commissars, the militia would have broken their resistance long ago.

Captain Loram ducked behind a heavy metal crate filled with spare parts. The captain switched his lasgun to half power, leaned outside the cover of the crate, and fired at the orks far across the room.

The room was a massive jumble of platforms and bridges. Where the militia charged from, the entrance opened to a wide platform with a handy bit of cover, connecting the platform to another was a massive bridge of think iron held together by steel cables. Had the militia wished so they could have taken down the bridge and cut the orks off, but that would jeopardize the entire mission. Instead the militia had to hold the orks off, hoping to stop them in their tracks at the opposite end of the bridge. Of course that had all been the worst case scenario if the Kasrkin had done their job, instead the militia found themselves fighting a horrible bloody battle across the entire room as the unmoved squads of orks fought with their crude and brutal weapons, against undertrained group of desperate defenders.

Captain Loram thought all of this as he fired his lasgun at orks. He may have been older then half of the men in the militia, but he was no beginner to the workings of combat. In his younger years he had hunted outside the city, living on a farm not too far from the metropolis itself.

The battle turned even bloody as the orks sought to close in, but the Commissars, aware that the militia were already scared and thought only of fleeing, wisely prevented this by placing themselves in front of an ork's charge. It was a heroic attempt, one that cost the lives of several well trained Commissars. Seeing these men willing sacrifice themselves spurred the militia onward, their guns blazing at the orks, but while the militia had a handy number of replacements always ready to fight, the orks seemed to be reinforced constantly, an infinite number of enemies to destroy the militia who, while having a handy bit of soldiers, were nowhere near the amount the orks had at their disposal.

On the eastern side of the militia's platform, a large group of militia were taking down the orks on a platform above them before a single rokkit tossed their remains over the desperate civilian soldiers. At the front of the militia resistance, causalities piled high as they strove to hold the bridge against wave after wave of the infinite number of ork 'sluggas'. The western side however, had fared fairly well, as there was a lack of platforms for the orks to focus on them, but, that in turn, left less orks for those militia to focus on.

For what seemed like ages the militia fought with some unknown strength. They seemed desperate to hold the single bit of platform against the unending tide of greenskins that kept charging in a relentless assault of green waves. Despite their undertrained skills, the civilian soldiers somehow seemed to hold the line, desperate to do their part in reclaiming the city. The causalities on both sides mounted only higher and higher as the militia forces were stretched. Begging that the Guard were still alive and on their way to help.

* * *

Only a small bit of light penetrated what looked like a sewage drain. That light came from several small holes in the wall opposite the Kasrkin, no doubt only there due to the lack of mantience in this section. This particular sewage pipe had been closed years before as the foundry expanded further into the city and gained new rights to the sewage areas far below the surface of the planet.

Each of the Kasrkin seemed a bit uneasy here, an unhealthy number of rats and other vermin crawled amongst each other, and over the top of the commando's feet. Sergeant Dash was standing near a slimy ladder as one of the Kasrkin tried to open the lid with blowing it open, none of the Kasrkin were sure exactly what awaited them on the other side.

Suddenly, the Kasrkin attending the lid chuckled, "I've got it, and what do you know! Not a single ork, we could've blown our way in."

Sergeant Dash smiled slightly, "And then our luck would have had it filled with orks. Just shut up and climb through, we'll follow immediately after." The soldier above him nodded, groaning as he struggled to lift the heavy piece of solid metal above him. Then, with a heavy gasp, the lid was moved from of the whole, bathing the drain in pure light from the lamps above. A few of the Kasrkin clapped, happy they could be rid of the stink hole. Eagerly, they scrambled up the ladder, exhilarated that they could finally do their job.

Sergeant Dash pulled himself free of the drain, laying on the heavy cemented floor for several moments. Then with a mighty push, he stood up, assisting the Kasrkin as they made their way up the ladder.

The room they were in was completely deserted save for a few insects and a handful of active cleaning machinery. The room appeared to have been a former area for cutting large amounts of ore. Several conveyor belts stood upon the tables and a large number of razor sharp blades, powered by energy cells used long before, hung upon the walls. A large amount of raw ore littered the ground across the entire room.

Sergeant Dash examined his surroundings, and nodded, the orks should be just in front of them. A vent below him led directly down to the room. He could only hope once more that the militia had not…his thoughts were interrupted as he heard the sounds of lasfire through even the heavy walls. Apparently the militia had already engaged the orks, and from the sound of it, in heavy fighting. Cursing himself for being slow, the sergeant ripped open the vent and waved too his soldiers. Then, he dropped down into it.

* * *

The area above Captain Loram's head disappeared in an explosion of dust and heat. The Captain dropped lower, prepping his lasgun as he leaned out of the cover of the crate. He aimed down the sights of his lasgun, aiming for an ork wielding a rapid firing bolter. The captain, aiming for several spots, then fired.

Several clicks from the trigger were followed by the blasts as the lasfire burst from the barrel of the lasgun. The ork the captain had been aiming at was hit, the ork roared as it held the burn marks across his body. The beast groaned and stepped back, falling completely over the railing behind it. The captain smirked, exchanging power cells as the orks prepared for another charge. The civilian captain gripped down on his lasgun, wishing the militia issued lasguns had auto-fire on them. He leaned to the side once more, and began blasting with his comrades hoping to stop the attack before it reached them.

The militia's platform lit up in a blaze of lights as the lasguns opened fire on the orks. A heavy number of orks fell from numerous blasts from the civilians blazing lasguns, but no matter how many horrible greenskins fell, more took their place. The bridge had bottlenecked the orks, and turned it into a killing zone. The corpses of their own forming speed bumps as the orks were forced to push onward through the lifeless bodies of their fallen kin.

Captain Loram unleashed the full power of his lasgun, set at full power upon the orks. There was always a loud blast coming from his gun, a light from his barrel, and a thud from the butt of the gun as it slammed into the captain's shoulder. Loram roared as he cut down the orks, but there was nothing he could truly do to turn the tables. The orks died and dropped like mad, but their charge didn't end. In a matter of minutes the orks had crossed the bridge, the corpses of their dead falling off too the bottom of the room who knew how deep below. The greenskins waved their crude weapons, slicing apart the militia that had been nearest the bridge.

The Captain knew the militia were dead. They were all civilians, barely trained how to shoot a gun. They had no training or experience in hand to hand combat, while the weakest ork was still massive and could crush one of them easily. Death had come to them…and yet, Loram didn't feel fear, he only felt a burning sensation inside him to keep finding. The captain of the civilian soldiers slammed a fresh power cell into his lasgun, mumbled a prayer to the emperor, and then swung out, his lasgun flashing with a new intensity.

The lasrounds burst from Loram's lasgun and into the orks, cutting down the massive brutes like crazy. Yet nothing stalled their advance, when the orks had truly begun pouring onto the platform, the militia ran. The commissars could do nothing to stop them from fleeing, rather the officers themselves turned, their duty forgotten as the orks collided with the militia's main body. Scores of militia fell under the crude weaponry of the ork slugga boyz. Captain Lore could only shake, his legs turned to jelly, lasgun spent, and his hands shaking too much to reload with a fresh power cell.

Yet, the death the Captain had expected never came. Rather, he heard the screams of orks and thuds as they turned to change direction. The captain opened his eyes expecting to see an ork's axe swinging towards him. Instead, Loram saw the orks running once more across the bridge, where are the other sides Kasrkin stood, their Hellguns blazing with light white like the glory of the Emperor himself. The Kasrkin's elite weaponry cut through the orks, piling up the bodies so swiftly it stalled the orks advance.

Renewed strength flooded through Loram, he knew they could win now. With steadier hands the captain reloaded his lasgun and waved to the militia, "Too me my friends! Attack the orks in the rear! Destroy them between two forces, for Karas Poragis!" It took several minutes and Emperor knew how many yells, but each yell rallied more forces to the captain. Slowly the forces of the militia regenerated, speeding up as the commissars realized their foolish mistake. They roared threats and curses at the militia, turning even more back to the battle. Eventually, the entire militia was back, their lasgun blasting at the orks rear.

The orks, caught completely off guard by the attack, utterly stopped their advance to the Kasrkin and turned to the militia, but returned to the Kasrkin once more as the Hellguns ground into them from their new back. It was a killing field, the bulk of the ork forces fell in a matter of minutes. Once the clustered army of orks thinned, the Kasrkin paused their firing as to not hit any of the militia. The militia however, didn't stop until every last one of the orks had been cut down. Several blasts of lasfire hit Kasrkin, but thankfully, their armor and shields protected them.

After the civilian had completely stopped their firing, Sergeant Dash crossed the bridge, any remaining orks on the other platforms had fled, most likely out of the foundry. Now, the main resistance was gone, and the way was open. Dash tapped the Vox Link on the side of his head, "This is Sergeant Dash of the 3rd Retrieval Company, foundry is cleared of major resistance. Way is open for the Guardsmen to retake the rest of the foundry…

* * *

Lord Militant General Egar read through the data slates on his desk. The foundry operation had been successful, but at the cost of several Kasrkin and a major amount of local militia. The Militant General thought for a moment, the militia had to be trained. The general nodded, coming to a decision. He flipped on a switch on the wall behind him, the voice of his assistant flowed from a speaker beside it. "Yes Lord Militiant General?"

Militant General Egar held down the switch so he could reply, "Get me Commissar Colonel Roland…"


End file.
